


Last Chance for Heaven

by Kylenne



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-25
Updated: 2012-04-25
Packaged: 2017-11-04 07:16:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/391201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kylenne/pseuds/Kylenne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Commander Shepard wasn't about to die a second time, and she certainly wasn't going to do so with a heart full of regrets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Chance for Heaven

Two hours left.

Two hours until there was no turning back. Two hours until that final journey into the abyss, and weeks upon weeks of careful preparation and strategy came to fruition. Only two hours until Commander Imani Shepard and the motley crew she'd fire-forged into a cohesive team against all odds were put to the greatest test of their lives. Two hours before this mission that everyone from the Illusive Man on down said was suicide, through a relay none had returned from, to a place in the galaxy nothing could survive. 

Yet all she could think about was Garrus Vakarian, and the promise they'd made about finding some calm before the storm in each other's arms. Her heart was pounding a little faster at the thought, and maybe it said something about her that the imminent trip to the damned galactic core wasn't even close to inspiring the same reaction.

Imani leaned against her desk, arms folded. This was as calm as it was ever going to be; it was now or never. There was no time for second guessing, no place for regrets, and she'd never been as sure about anything in her life. She pushed the intercom button on the holo interface, for the Main Battery.

"Hey, Garrus," she said, in as deliberately casual a tone as she could manage. There was no need to make him any more nervous than he was very likely to be.

"Shepard," Garrus' voice answered back through the speaker, and it seemed to Imani that he didn't sound entirely surprised to get the call. He had to have heard EDI over the ship-wide address system, after all.

"We've got some time to kill before hitting the relay. Wanna come upstairs? I could use the company. Maybe blow off a little steam."

Imani bit her lip to narrowly avoid the adolescent giggle fit that was threatening. It wasn't the most subtle invitation she'd ever made, but this _was_ Garrus she was dealing with. There was a brief pause before he answered her, and she couldn't help but grin broadly at the silence. She could almost see his mandibles twitch involuntarily, the nervous glance back at his display interface. It was probably terrible of her, but she loved getting under his skin like this. He was so adorable when he was flustered.

"If you're thinking what I'm thinking...sure," Garrus purred in response, and her grin grew wider. How he managed to sound utterly ridiculous and so damned sexy at the same time was beyond her. "I'm just finishing up some last minute tweaks on these firing algorithms, don't want the Collectors to think we're not going to show them a good time. Give me a few minutes and I'll be right there."

"Don't worry, it'll give me time to freshen up. Just don't keep me waiting _too_ long."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Shepard."

Imani smiled, shutting the channel down, and peeled off the Cerberus uniform to get in the shower. Part of her was admittedly rather stunned that this was even happening, and if she thought about it too hard it still made her head hurt a little. Fraternizing wasn't exactly new or unusual to her. Even the famously strait-laced and by-the-book Commander Shepard wasn't above a bit of fooling around with fellow crew members on the rare occasion. It was often a long time between furloughs after all, and she was a damned attractive woman. She knew how to be discreet, and it never got in the way of the mission; truth be told, she'd turned down far more offers than she'd ever accepted. And until Kaidan, she'd never done it with a subordinate. Quite deliberately, because that was the sort of disruption that did have an impact on unit cohesion.

But occasional no-strings-attached casual sex was something entirely different than this. Imani's attraction to Garrus ran much deeper than just a desire to sleep with him, though that raw lust for him was still as strong as it had ever been; how many times had she stood in this very shower, pretending her fingers and hands were his? Just thinking about it was tempting her hand southward, and only the reminder that he actually would be there in a few moments was enough to stop her. There was no question that she wanted him.

That's not all she wanted from Garrus, though. It was made abundantly clear to Imani when she saw him laying in a pool of blood on that apartment floor in Omega, and she felt the kind of blind panic that hadn't gripped her since she was suffocating to death in the vacuum of space. It was made even clearer when he waltzed into the Briefing Room an hour or so later as though nothing had ever happened, when his eyes met hers, and her heart soared in relief and incalculable joy.

Maybe it took her nearly losing him to really understand what he meant to her. Garrus was the single person she trusted most in the entire galaxy. Theirs was a bond forged in the fire of combat and desperate circumstances. And when she saw the pain and misery he was in when she found him again, all she wanted to do was hold him close until it melted away. All she wanted was to ease his suffering, to soothe the scars that weren't visible even as she kissed the ones that were. She still did. Garrus was everything to her; she understood that now. And she'd vowed that she wasn't going to die a second time without showing him that.

Imani shut the water off and quickly toweled herself off to get ready. This was no less important a mission to prepare for than any other, she thought to herself with a cheeky little grin. During the last supply run to Illium, she'd picked up a few things to do so. She rubbed on some of the scented cocoa butter, thoroughly moisturizing. Perhaps a bit more than usual, keeping Mordin's warnings against chafing in mind. Her hair needed very little work, since she'd re-applied the henna a day or two previously; a quick comb through of her damp curls with some oil and a hit from the dryer was all that was necessary.Then she turned to the hanger on the wall to arm herself.

Her usual utilitarian black sports bra and panties were passed over for a much fancier designer asari set from Nos Astra, and she was suddenly quite glad that this was the sort of item tastefully covered by "Personal Expenditures" on her expense reports to Miranda. Imani was pretty damned sure "Commander Shepard's sexy lingerie for the seduction of the Gunnery Officer" couldn't be justified as a legitimate necessity for the Lazarus Cell, and talking to Miranda gave her the sneaking suspicion that the Illusive Man would probably take too keen an interest in it anyway. "Personal Expenditures" was nice and classy and no one asked any potentially embarrassing questions.

Imani put her hands on her hips and stared at herself appraisingly in the mirror. Black with red accents--once N7, always N7, of course, but she couldn't deny the appeal of those colors against her deep, golden brown complexion. She suspected turian men wouldn't have much use for cleavage, considering turian women lacked breasts entirely, but she didn't care--this thing made her tits look _fabulous_. She made an entirely serious mental note to start wearing asari bras with her civvies if they survived this business. _Damn._

She slipped into the black leather mini-dress she'd gotten from Kasumi for the Bekenstein heist, and was reminded of how much she loved the way it hugged her slender curves. That little black dress had come in handy for more than just the heist, most notably, when she acted as bait to lure Morinth into Samara's trap, and Imani thought she really ought to thank Kasumi for it. It wasn't normally the sort of thing she wore, but putting it on made her feel sexy and confident in a way she hadn't in a long time. It made her feel more in touch with the femininity she so frequently had to bury as a soldier in order to be taken seriously, and it was a feeling that greatly appealed to her.

Another vow, if she made it out of this alive: Imani was going to let her inner femme out to play a bit more. Life was too damned short and precious.

She finally clasped on the silver necklace and her tiny ankh earrings, then proceeded to apply her makeup, the final step in her transformation. When Imani took stock of herself again in the mirror, she looked more like the glamorous women of old Hollywood vids from Earth than the Commander of a starship: Dorothy Dandridge as Carmen Jones, Blue Ivy Carter as the Queen of Sheba. Maybe it was a little vain of her, but Imani thought she could even see a little of the statues from the temple on Mindoir, the goddesses of her childhood: Isis, Hathor, Bastet. It had been a long time since she'd felt this beautiful, this alluring.

Of course, she had no idea if turians found any of this sort of thing attractive, but it didn't really matter. The important thing was how it made _her_ feel. Imani had no doubts about her skills at the art of seduction--those ran neck and neck with her combat ability, rather than her dancing or driving, even though she hadn't had much opportunity to exercise them as such. But this was new territory for her, and she wanted to make sure she was as confident as possible. 

And, hell, if it worked for a four-hundred year old insane asari sex vampire, it would probably work on Garrus.

It was just another form of slipping into ritual consciousness, according to her beliefs. The mind had to be prepared as much as the body for any endeavor to succeed, and even at her least spiritual, before she died, she still held to that principle. To that end, she exited the bathroom and knelt before the shrine she kept on the side table by the sofa. It was covered in small statuary of various Egyptian deities, dimly glowing LEDs in the shape of votive candles, and all manner of small baubles and trinkets. Her particular focus was a small glass decanter filled with a floral perfume scented with rose, jasmine, and a hint of myrrh, which she lifted from the open hands of a Hathor statue. Closing her eyes, Imani held the perfume between her palms and let the image of the goddess form in her mind.

"I praise the Golden, I worship Her Majesty. I extol the Lady of Heaven; I give adoration to Het-Hert, Mistress of Love. Take mercy and hear my plea," Imani softly intoned. When she continued her prayer, however, the tone was decidedly less formal. There was too much at stake here for her to do anything but speak directly from her heart. "I know I don't ask you for many things. I don't know if I'm going to make it out of this one, my Lady. I'll give it everything I've got, like I always try to, I'll do everything I can to get my people out of this alive. I've worked so damn hard, I've prepared as much as I can, but I know nothing's guaranteed. I know I might be standing before Lady Ma'at before the night is out, and this time there won't be anyone to pull me back upstairs. I'm not worried about my heart if that happens. I've done everything I've possibly could to run this mission this honorably. I've tried to do it the right way."

Imani took a breath, and clutched the bottle that much tighter in her grasp. "But that's not why I'm asking for your help. I'm asking you for help right now because this might be the last time I have to spend with Garrus. This might be the very last chance I have. And I don't want to screw this up. Please, I've never begged for anything in my life, but I want so badly for this to go right. Let us find something good with each other. Let me find the courage to show him how much I care about him. I don't even need him to love me back, my Lady. I just want us to know a few moments of pleasure and happiness in case this is all we've got left."

She anointed herself with the perfume, then, at her pulse points, and lingered a bit around her cleavage. "And please, just let our screwed up biology cooperate," she added, with a sheepish little mumble.

There was the tell tale whooshing sound of the ship's elevator doors opening in the distance, and Imani quickly replaced the perfume bottle on the altar, then skittered over to her desk as fast as she could in the heels. When the cabin door parted and Garrus walked in, he was carrying a white bottle, and she smiled at him. His fashion sense was a bit...off, but she did appreciate the buckles going up his boots. He did have nice legs, for a turian. But he was still wearing his visor, and Imani thought that was hilarious for some reason.

"Hey," Garrus said, holding up a white bottle, and seemingly oblivious to the fact that she was checking him out, as usual. "I brought wine. Best I could afford on a vigilante's salary."

Imani folded her arms beneath her chest, and just smiled at him in amusement. He hustled over to the partition dividing her workspace from the sleeping area, to push the button for the extranet radio--and got a ghastly electronic sound that sounded a lot like dying varren in an alley fight.

Vorcha dubstep. The equivalent of shoving ice down anyone's panties. Imani's brow furrowed and her grin turned slightly into a wince. When Garrus realized that was a no go, he frantically mashed the button again and got--well, it was a decent enough dance track with a solid beat, that actually qualified as music as opposed to the previous selection, but it was hardly lust inducing. Mostly it made her want to go hit the quasar machines at Flux, if the place even still existed. 

She suppressed the urge to laugh when it suddenly occurred to her that he'd probably gotten the exact same talk that she did from Mordin, except he actually took the salarian's comments about alcohol and mood music seriously--likely because he didn't know any better. It took even more discipline not to laugh when the turian proceeded to stroll towards her with his arms out, in the most ridiculous walk she'd ever seen. He strutted, really, like some sort of big ass awkward space peacock, and the blue and green he wore didn't do much to dispel the mental image. He really was trying to impress her, bless him. Trying way too hard. Imani joined him by the railing, next to the fish tank, and stood there grinning incredulously at him. It was such an adorable trainwreck that she didn't want to interrupt it, not yet at least. Part of her felt awful for it, but it really was endearing.

When her eyes met his, he glanced nervously downward, and his mandibles twitched a bit. "If you were a turian, I'd be complimenting your waist, or your fringe," he began, fidgeting a bit with the wine bottle. Then it seemed like he worked up the courage to look her up and down, in a manner that could have probably been sexy had he not spoken the words that followed. "So...your, uh, hair looks good. And your waist is...very supportive."

Imani tilted her head, still grinning. Gods, but he was awkward. 

"Hopefully that's not offensive in human culture," he said quickly. His expression turned a bit desperate then. "Crap. I knew I should have watched the vids. Cut me a line here, Shepard--"

She raised her hands to interrupt his nervous babbling; the humor in the situation was gone, and now she just felt bad. Here was Garrus Vakarian, ex-C-Sec cowboy cop and the infamous vigilante Archangel who was so feared and hated on the streets of Omega, and he was thoroughly out of his depth with her. He was trying so damned hard, and he seemed so vulnerable to her. She wanted very badly to hug him.

"Garrus, seriously. You don't have to do this. You're in my bedroom, aren't you? Consider me seduced," Imani said, as she briefly left him to shut the silly music off, then stood close to him, face to face.

Garrus sighed, looking down at his hands. "I just...I've seen so many things go wrong, Shepard. My work at C-Sec, what happened with Sidonis..." he said. "I want something to go right. Just once."

She gazed up at him, her eyes filled with empathy, her expression as compassionate as it had ever been. Gods, he'd suffered so much. She remembered back to when she found him in that apartment on Omega, he hadn't slept, he'd barely eaten; he was broken long before that gunship ever fired the rocket at him.

Imani knew what it was like to be that broken, to be that run down.

"Just..." Garrus whispered, his voice choked, and she raised a gentle hand to softly caress the scars on his cheek. His eyes closed, and he tilted his head into her touch, nuzzling her hand. She didn't need to say anything, not then. She understood him, and in that one simple gesture, she made it clear to him that he did. 

"You don't have to be afraid, Garrus," Imani finally said. "You're not gonna run me off."

"But, Shepard..." he protested.

She lowered her hand from his scarred cheek, and knew what she had to do. Imani leaned in a bit closer, and bowed her head, offering her brow to him, and without a second thought, he bowed his in turn to rest against hers, albeit bending slightly because he was taller. It was a turian gesture, and an old one. It meant that a superior considered a subordinate their equal in spirit, if not legal stature. And in a culture where virtually every social interaction was predicated on or colored by rank, to be offered such a gesture was a sign of great affection, used only in the most intimate of relationships: family, blood brothers, spouses. There would be no mistaking to Garrus what it meant.

"Imani, Garrus. Here, it's 'Imani'. I'm not your Commander right now," she said softly.

"Well then, you're full of surprises...Imani. I didn't realize you knew about that," the turian said in hushed admiration, and it seemed his body language changed then; he was more relaxed, and reached towards her to affectionately stroke her arm. The soft touch of his glove against her bare skin was incredibly distracting, and sent a pleasant shiver down her spine. 

"I've got more where that came from," she purred. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and lifted her head to rest it against his shoulder, leaning in to press her body tightly against him. "You're not the only one who did research."

Garrus seemed emboldened then, and slid his arms around her waist, resting his free hand on her hip. "So..." he said, squeezing her, "what's next, then? I've watched enough vids to understand the mechanics, but..."

"That's the thing about human women, Garrus," Imani said. "The basics are pretty much the same for all of us, but no vid can tell you exactly what turns a particular woman's crank. We've each got our own little quirks and turn ons. Part of the fun is experimenting and finding out what makes our bodies tick."

"But what if I screw it up?"

"What do you when you blow a shot?"

Garrus bristled. "I don't _blow_ shots, Imani."

Imani chuckled, and nodded sagely. "Hypothetically speaking, of course."

"Hypothetically? Pop the damn heat sink and take it again."

"Exactly," she said, grinning. "So get comfortable, and I'll pour us some wine. We'll relax a bit and take it slow. No pressure."

"Sounds like a plan."

Imani pulled away from him and kissed his scarred cheek. "So, what kind of wine'd you get?"

"Don't get too excited. Vigilante's salary, remember?" Garrus replied in a deadpan tone. "But don't worry, it's levo, and just about the only kind I can drink without getting violently ill. I figured humans weren't into projectile vomiting as a fetish. Volus, maybe--they're absolute _freaks_."

Imani laughed, and playfully snatched the bottle from him, walking toward the coffee table, where two empty wine glasses waited. "You've got some impressive game, Vakarian. I finally get you up here, and all you can talk about is puking."

"I'm irresistible, I know," Garrus drawled, sitting on the bed to watch her pour the wine. Imani slowly bent down and twisted the cap from the bottle, fully aware of how short her dress was. When she glanced back at Garrus, he leaned back and propped his head up on one of the pillows, making no effort at all to hide the leering expression in his eyes. "I think you might be even more irresistible, though I understand that's pretty hard to believe," he added.

She offered him a glass, then took one for herself and sidled up to him, snuggling close in the convenient spot left by his outstretched arm. "I thought you weren't into humans," she teased him, with a smirk, and took a sip. It wasn't bad at all, a sweet white wine that almost tasted like a Riesling.

"Maybe I just needed to find the right human," the turian said. "What's the verdict on the wine?"

"Pretty good," Imani answered, taking another sip. "But you're changing the subject."

Garrus downed about half his glass and sat it on the nightstand, surely more out of nervous instinct than anything since it wasn't as if he could actually get drunk from levo alcohol. "Don't play coy with me, Shep--Imani. Surely you must realize how beautiful you are?"

"Doesn't mean I don't like to hear it," she said, "especially from turians who aren't into humans." Her grin was a gently mocking one.

Garrus' mandibles flared a bit, and he snorted in amusement. "Not letting me live that comment down, are you? Well, you are beautiful. And I was being serious, maybe I _did_ just need to find the right human. When you get right down to it, you're really not all that different than a turian woman. You're softer, sure, you've got hair, and you've got extra...mods," he said, glancing down at her breasts. "But you've got curves like a turian, in all the places it counts. Plus a few extra. Even a senile hanar would find you attractive. I'm half convinced it's the reason that Collector General's always yelling to _'preserve Shepard's body if possible'_."

"Garrus!"

"What? He's got taste, I'll give the bastard that much. I'd assume direct control of you any time." Garrus winked at her, and she nearly made a spit take.

"Keep talking like that, and I might even let you," she laughed.

His mandibles twitched then, and he paused, staring pointedly at her. "What about you? You seemed pretty enthusiastic when you propositioned me. I know you're not new to this cross-species dance, but turians aren't exactly asari."

Imani wasn't expecting that from him, but she supposed she ought to have. It was a fair question, after all. "I never really gave turians a second thought, until I met you," she admitted, drinking more of her wine. "But as I spent time around you, I caught myself noticing things. That little reverb in your voice. And you're not the only one that likes curves." She set her glass down next to his, and sidled closer to him, stroking his thigh. 

When she did, Garrus squirmed a bit and sat up against the backrest. "I think I like this. Do go on."

She kicked her shoes off and leaned against him, gently kissing his scars, letting her tongue linger just below his ear plate. "But I really love watching you fight. I love the way you crouch like you're ready to pounce. I love the way your hips shift when you line up a shot. The way your fingers flex and curl around the trigger. You're pure sex with a gun, Garrus."

"It's a wonder you manage to kill anything, then," Garrus sighed, wrapping his arm around her, and half lifted her onto his lap. "If I'm so distracting."

"I do alright," she snickered. "But I always need to take care of myself when we get back."

"Good thing I'm here to lend a hand," he said.

Imani chuckled softly. "Whatcha waiting for then?"

"...I'm not really sure," Garrus confessed, tentatively stroking her back, and it sent a warm tingle through her. Despite the pleasant feeling, she frowned a bit, the playfulness leaving her expression. His body language still seemed hesitant, nervous. She sat up a bit, sliding off his lap.

"Garrus...if you don't want to do this, we don't have to," she said, pushing down the lump in her throat.

He shook his head. "No, that's not it at all. I _want_ this, Imani, believe me. I just--"

Imani cupped her hand on his cheek again, brushing her thumb against his mandible. "What is it that's got you so worried, then? This doesn't have to mean anything you don't want it to mean, if that's it."

"That's just it, though. I've turned this over in my head so many times since you brought it up, and I just...I _want_ this to mean something. And I don't know if that's right or appropriate--I don't know how human expectations work, Imani. I don't know--I just don't know." Garrus sounded so helpless then, stumbling over his words, and all she wanted to do was soothe his fears.

Imani rested her hand upon his other cheek, lifting his face to gaze at her own. And it struck her then just how very expressive turians actually were, for all their reputation as cold and unfeeling. A thousand emotions were playing out over his face in muted tones, through subtle shifts and tension in the plates. The way his eyes locked upon hers and wouldn't let go. He looked so lost, so afraid.

"Stop thinking of me as human, and yourself as turian," she said, as soothingly as she could. "Forget about all of that, and just be open and honest with me. I won't judge you or get angry. Have I ever, in all the time you've known me?"

"Not even when I deserved it," Garrus sighed. "I just--"

"What'd I tell you about following your instincts?" Imani pressed. "What're they telling you?"

"That I'm a busted up, run down failure of a turian that's fallen for you, Imani Shepard. I've fallen so damn hard that I can hardly get up. And if I lose you again, I might not ever. It scares the hell out of me."

"Garrus."

The soft, sardonic laughter that followed was faintly tinged by bitterness. "Still want to go for that tiebreaker, or did I just kill the mood entirely?"

Imani's answer came when she lunged in and pressed her lips against his mouth. Turians didn't have lips as such, but it didn't matter; there was still a softness in the cartilage about the opening, firm but with enough give that it wasn't _entirely_ dissimilar to a normal kiss. She lingered there, and hovered above him, so close that her thick black lashes faintly brushed against his brow. "I want you, Garrus. So badly I don't know what to do with myself, sometimes. But this was never just about sex to me." Imani kissed him a second time, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, embracing her tightly. "I want _you_ ," she whispered fiercely.

When she kissed him a third time, she felt resistance against the fullness of her lips, in the form of very slight echoes of her own movements; at first they were imperceptible, but as her lips parted, so did his mouth, and the hesitance of his movements faded. Imani's eyes closed and she melted into the feeling. Even though she was doing most of the work, per se, it wasn't bad at all. Far from it.

"...is that...?" Garrus' voice was barely a whisper.

"Yeah," Imani said, smiling, with her eyes still closed. "You got it."

"Maybe I did learn something from all those vids."

This time Garrus initiated the kiss, half lifting her in his arms. Imani felt a slow flush creep into her cheeks, and she squirmed a bit as his gloved hand slid up the back of her neck. Suddenly, however, she froze up a bit in panic as she felt his tongue parting her lips, and she pulled back sharply. "Garrus, wait--"

His eyes grew alarmed, and he looked down in embarrassment. "Oh, crap, was I not supposed to do that?" he sighed in frustration. "In the vids--"

"No, that's what we do," Imani interjected. "I just don't want to hurt you. From fluids, I mean. I got some barriers from Mordin in case you wanted to do other things, but...we shouldn't--"

Garrus looked back up at her, firmly. "Imani, if this really is the only time I get to do this with you, I don't give a damn about any of that. I've got an emergency shot of dex-adrenaline if I really need it. But all things considered, I'd rather die with my tongue down your throat or up your twat than being shot by some damn Collector. Of course, I also wouldn't have to be the one to explain that, so it's a win-win for me. Not so much for you, but you can talk your way out of anything. You're Commander Shepard."

Imani couldn't help herself; she burst into giggles, shaking her head in defeat. "Alright, Vakarian. If you insist." She snuggled against him. "We'll throw caution to the wind and see where it takes us."

Garrus nodded, and went in for another kiss. This time she allowed him to take the lead again, and when his tongue slipped into her mouth, the sensation was amazing. It was longer than a human's, and slightly rougher in feel; still soft, but almost like velvet. He squeezed her tightly, his hands gripping her by the ass, and she rose up a bit, arcing her body into him. In short measure she found herself unconsciously straddling his thigh. Her pulse raced a bit faster, the thought of his tongue on her body making her squirm against him, and the heat of his own body did nothing to help.

When they finally came up for air, Garrus' hands slid up her back to find the zipper on her dress. "You're wearing way too many clothes right now," he muttered, tugging a bit insistently on it.

"So're you," Imani whispered back. She let him unzip her, then she got up just long enough to slide the leather dress down to the floor. When she glanced back up, Garrus had already set his visor on the nightstand and was pulling his sweater over his head so fast she thought he might have just torn it apart. It was kind of hilarious.

He was very nicely built, as she expected, but what she didn't expect was how slender he was. She'd gotten so used to seeing him in bulky armor and his thick civilian clothes that she admittedly thought he'd be much bigger beneath them. He was still top heavy, of course, but his body was almost entirely taut, sharply defined musculature. She let her eyes wander along chiseled lines, sepia-toned arms and pectorals with speckled grey plating down his sides, similar to his face and neck. In human terms, he was...ripped, really, but not burly. Downright sleek, past his typically broad collarbone, but still exuding hardness and strength.

It was exactly the kind of body she was most attracted to. This one just happened to be turian, and the differences only intrigued her more. She was really going to have fun exploring those.

"You're staring, Shepard. I hope that's a good sign," Garrus chuckled, shifting to sit on the side of the bed to strip his lower half. Imani made one of those sly half-grins of hers at him, and knelt down to unbuckle his boots, starting from his thighs down.

"Just admiring the view," she said, glancing up at him. "I like it."

"I do try to work out," he deadpanned while slipping his gloves off. "But I think the view might be better from this angle. I never expected you to wear black lace under that N7 armor."

"Told you I'm full of surprises. You trying to say you like watching me on my knees, though?" Imani's grin widened.

Garrus didn't say anything in response, but the expression in his eyes rendered that entirely unnecessary. Imani pursed her lips in amusement. Men really were pretty much the same, regardless of species. She tugged on his boots and got them off within short order, but when she went for his belt buckle, he grabbed her wrist. The sensation wasn't exactly unpleasant, the way his claws dug into her skin, and it was entirely distracting.

"I don't know how much...research...you did, but I don't want there to be any surprises when my pants come off," Garrus said in a mildly serious manner. "You do know how our genitalia works, right?" He winced. "There goes that clinical tone again..."

Imani nodded, and squeezed his leg in reassurance. "I've always been an overachiever, Garrus," she said, smiling. "I know about your cloaca, if that's what you're worried about." For as much embarrassment as he'd caused her, Mordin's instructional materials really _were_ helpful.

The turian seemed to relax a little then. "So you know how this goes. Good, I was kind of worried you'd freak out on me, considering what you're used to."

Imani smiled again, and unbuckled his pants. "Just as long as tentacles don't start popping out, I'm cool." She paused, the smile turning into a smirk. "It's not that I'm not into them, I'd just like some notice is all."

" _Kinky_. I think I like this side of you," Garrus snickered approvingly, and propped himself off the bed enough to let her strip him.

Imani tossed his pants to the side, and let her eyes wander his body again, admiring his curves and the tautness of his frame. She wasn't going to settle just for looking though, not now that she finally had him undressed and in her bed. Rising to her feet, she climbed onto the edge of the bed, resting on her knees to straddle his lap. It was strange not feeling the usual bulge against her, but ultimately no more so than when she was with a cis woman. His body was incredibly warm though, like a heat rock against her skin, and as she stroked his chest with her hands, she found his turian flesh was far thicker than a human's. Not as hard as the metal so many people erroneously believed it was, but it was taut and firm. She idly wondered if all of him felt that way, and bit her lip.

Even as she was exploring his body with her hands, Garrus was doing the same to hers with his own, and his touch was driving her to utter distraction. His fingers were so long and thick, but they were incredibly flexible and felt unbelievably good as they caressed her skin and worked out the knots in her back muscles. Maybe those long hours of calibrations were put to good use, she thought with a wicked little silent giggle. 

"You're so damn soft," the turian muttered in amazement. "You're not exactly fragile, I mean you've got muscles, but you're...really squishy."

Even when stark naked and feeling her up, he still made her chuckle. Imani kissed his nose. "You won't break me, Garrus," she said, her breath hitching just slightly as his claws traced along the edge of her panties.

"Anything else I should know?" he asked, lightly scratching the small of her back.

"I like things a little rough," she answered, planting tiny kisses along his jawline, drawn back to his scars as she always seemed to be. For all his self-deprecating jokes about them, Imani truly did find them incredibly alluring. She traced the grooves and crevices with her tongue and felt him tense up a bit beneath her when she reached the edge of his mandible; he made a rumbly little sound of pleasure at that, and she mentally filed it away. "I love giving up control."

"Good," Garrus purred. "I love taking it."

Sharp teeth brushed against her neck, along the edges of the choker she wore, and her breath hitched a little. Garrus was half licking, half gently biting her, and she was squirming more in his grasp. He growled a bit in frustration as the jewelry got in his way, and she quickly unclasped it to allow him better access to her neck, throwing it off to the side. He took full advantage, too, working his way around her throat, and hunched down to nuzzle her breasts. When he began nibbling around her cleavage, her nipples grew hard, and she squirmed a bit more insistently against his thigh.

Imani softly giggled, though, when she felt his fingers fumbling awkwardly at the back of her bra like a teenage boy. "Let me," she whispered, and reached back to unhook it for him.

Garrus grunted in appreciation and pulled it off her, unceremoniously flinging it to the side. He laid tentative hands on her breasts, then, curiously stroking them with his fingers, giving them a gentle squeeze, with his eyes sharply watching her for reactions. The lightness of his touch, the way his thumbs teased her nipples, was driving her utterly mad, and she could feel herself growing wetter by the moment.

"...I could _definitely_ get used to this," the turian muttered, squeezing her firmly. Imani's lashes fluttered, and her back arched into his touch. Seemingly emboldened by this, he scooped her up with one arm, and with his other hand shifted back further onto the bed. Still grasping her tightly, he rolled over to sprawl atop of her.

"So could I," Imani breathed in pleasure as she felt Garrus' teeth on her neck again. And as he explored her body with his mouth, his tongue seemed to find every one of the spots that sent goosebumps along her arms.

Sliding down her body, he firmly licked one nipple, then the other, drawing lazy circles with his tongue, and she let out a soft moan when he began suckling her with just the barest hint of teeth. Her hands reached down for his fringe, her fingers spreading between the grooves to massage his scalp; almost as soon as she did, a low, soft groan emitted from him.

"...you sure you've never done this with a turian?" Garrus mumbled, caressing his way down her stomach with a hand, drawing his claws to leave light marks against her flushed mahogany skin.

"I dunno, how much porn did you--" Imani's smart retort was stopped right in its tracks when his fingers slid into her panties, between the soaked lace and her warm cunt. Her hips rose a bit off the bed, her legs spread wider in need. "Fuck, Garrus," she whimpered.

"That's the idea," he purred, and spread her lips with his fingers. It didn't matter at all that he only had three; their length and thickness coupled with his exceptional dexterity more than made up for that. Her clit was throbbing, aching for friction, and when he firmly slid his thumb across it she gave him a languid moan in response. "Good spot?" he muttered.

"Good spot," she gasped. His finger pressed against her clit that much harder, and he began rubbing it in hard, deft circles, causing her to grind slowly into his hand. Imani moaned, shuddering in sheer pleasure, when a second finger began to slip inside her. Her pussy had never been so wet or felt so good. At the rate Garrus was going with his hand, she wasn't going to last terribly long--

Imani felt a sudden sharp pain inside her as something sharp scraped against the sensitive inner flesh. She grabbed his wrist and winced. "Whoa there, tiger. Watch the claws," she gasped.

Garrus' hand froze and he quickly removed his finger from her. "Are you alright?" he asked sharply.

"Yeah," Imani said. "I'm fine. We're just...really sensitive there. Claws on the outside are good. On the inside? Not so much."

"Duly noted," Garrus said, resting his hands on her hips. He made a petulant little sigh of frustration, and Imani thought it was incredibly adorable. "And here I thought I'd gotten the hang of it."

Imani smiled reassuringly at him, stroking his fringe. "Oh, you did. A lot of human guys don't even know what a clit is, much less where to find it. But what'd I tell you about getting something wrong?"

Garrus chuckled. "Pop the heat sink and try again," he said. His eyes twinkled impishly, then. "This time I'll go for the high impact shot."

"Gotta bring down my shields first," she laughed. 

He tugged meaningfully on her panties and she lifted up a bit, allowing him to pull them down and off her, then he sprawled on top of her again for another round of kissing. She wrapped her arms around him, kneading his stiff back with her hands as hard as she could; he groaned when she reached his ass and squeezed. His hips shifted just to the side and rolled so he was straddling her thigh. His groin was rubbing against hers, and it was; the muscles there were taut, his skin softer about the opening. Sensitive, from what she remembered of her reading. She shifted, and much like she would with a woman, lifted up her knee slightly and squeezed his ass down on her thigh, working her knuckles into his skin, all the while her tongue danced along the sensitive membrane between his scarred mandible and his cheek.

Garrus moaned and tensed up a little, and she felt something hard slowly begin to slide against her inner thigh. She eased her hand down to his crotch, her fingers stroking the emerging cock with some small amount of curiosity. It was smooth, far smoother than a human's, and thick with a certain amount of curve to it; hard and firm, but with a certain amount of give to it. Incredibly warm to the touch.

She could definitely work with this. The smoldering look in his eyes when he stared at her was only further encouragement. She idly began stroking his cock, and the slow blink he made in response made her bite her lip.

"Do you want me to...?" Garrus asked, his voice trembling and soft.

"Damn right I do," Imani replied, spreading her legs wide.

But the turian suddenly untangled himself from her limbs and shoved her further up the bed, roughly manhandling her onto her stomach. He swooped down on her, smothering her with his powerful upper frame so that she was virtually pinned down, then grabbed her by the waist; she spread her legs open once more, prone and inviting. When the broad tip of his cock brushed past her lips and pressed inside her, she gasped and squirmed a bit beneath him; it was wider than that of any human she'd been with, but the sensation wasn't unpleasant by any means. She braced herself as he cautiously eased in deeper with each stroke, gently rolling his hips against her. It felt amazing, but he was taking it agonizingly slow, clearly concerned about hurting her again. It was driving her insane, and she squirmed.

"You won't break me," she growled in irritation. "Fuck me like you mean it."

Garrus responded by grabbing the back of her throat, digging his claws into her waist, and shoving his cock all the way into her. She gasped sharply with a full body shudder, the sensation sending pleasant chills down her spine. "Is that what you want?" he snarled.

Incoherent moans muffled into her pillow were all she was capable of. She clamped her eyes shut and clung to the headboard for dear life as he rode her mercilessly, slamming his cock into her over and over again. His hips bucked wildly against her ass when she tried to match his strokes, and she simply let go, allowing him to overpower her; it was exhilarating, losing herself in this feeling of helplessness beneath him as he pounded her into the mattress. Her breath came in shorter gasps, and her grasp slipped from the headboard. When it did, Garrus shifted his body and turned them both onto their sides, not missing a beat. He pinched her nipple and she gasped, but when his hand slid down her stomach to rub her clit in time to his strokes, that alone nearly sent her over the edge.

"Garrus," Imani moaned, grinding into his hand. She was utterly at his mercy, and her body felt like it was on fire. With every pointed thrust, every stroke of his finger, Imani's moans grew louder and more insistent, writhing against him as the tension built within her. She could feel herself on the precipice, and when he clamped his teeth on her neck, she was entirely overwhelmed by sheer release. Her entire body shuddered at once with an incoherent scream of absolute pleasure from her lips. It was only a moment or so later that Garrus' own body tensed against her and groaned her name again and again; with a final thrust of his cock, he spasmed, his warmth filling her, and he collapsed onto her. 

After a moment or two of silence, Garrus swore under his breath. "...wait, I shouldn't have--I meant to--" his voice panicking a little. "Shepard, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Garrus," she replied with a smile. "It's a bit tingly down there, but no more so than it would usually be after an earth-shattering orgasm. I think we're safe."

He relaxed then, and pulled out from her to lie face-to-face. "Earth-shattering, huh?" he asked in an entirely smug tone.

"You did good," Imani giggled, reaching up to kiss his cheek. "Though I don't know if I'll be able to walk, much less fight."

"I watched a lot of vids," Garrus said, stroking her arm. "You know, Imani, I was only teasing you before, but I'm starting to believe you really _do_ have a thing for men with scars."

"How'd you guess?"

"The way you can't seem to keep your mouth off them kind of gives it away."

"I can put it on something else if you want me to." Imani smirked. "If you're up for it, of course."

"That's the thing about turian men, dear," Garrus started, taking her by the hand and sliding it down to his crotch. To her astonishment, he was just as aroused as he was before. "We might show up late to the party, but we can go all night."

"You got something in mind?" Imani raised an eyebrow, gently tugging at him a bit.

"Just a move I saw in a vid. Looked _real_ interesting," Garrus purred, his voice thick with lust as he rubbed against her. "A bit of mutual stimulation. You sit on my face, I give you something for yours. Quid pro quo, isn't that what you call it?"

Imani grinned wickedly. "Actually, we call it a sixty-nine. And it's really fun," she said. Gently releasing him from her grasp, she rolled over with him to push him on his back. Once he nestled against the pillows, she turned around and straddled his face, hovering slightly over him, then laid down on his stomach to kiss his thighs. 

When she took his cock in hand again, he was still slick and covered in her juices, and she simply let her hands stroke up and down his shaft. She arched her back, stretching across his body, and leaned down to suckle the tip with her full, pouting lips as her hands worked. The taste of herself on him was enough to make her even wetter and she spread her legs wider across his face.

"...they teach you that in N7?" he grunted, digging his claws into her ass.

"Nah, bar on Elysium. Fleet Week gets _really_ wild--"

The sensation of his tongue against her tender skin was like nothing she'd ever felt before in her life, and it stole the words from her. It was warm, velvet softness rubbing against her clit, licking her from one end to the next and back again in languid strokes. She blissfully rolled her hips with his hands guiding her, grinding into him even as she let her own mouth and hands work his cock. This was nothing like the roughness of before. This was pure tenderness, and she returned it in kind. 

She engulfed him with her mouth, taking as much as she could into it, and very nearly managed it all. Suckling him, she took him into a vice grip and jerked him off, her little sounds of pleasure as she rode his tongue muffled by his cock. He licked circles around her clit, teasing it slowly, then plunged his tongue against it, rubbing it with amazingly intense friction. His hips jerked up to match the rhythm of her hands and lips, and it wasn't very long at all until he moaned into her thigh and came all over her hands. With her focus entirely on her own pleasure then, the feeling of his teeth against her skin was enough to send her cascading over the edge a second time. 

A long moment of silence followed, and neither seemed especially eager to break it; she swiveled around and crawled up to the pillows to snuggle against him. Garrus simply held her close, and she took comfort in his warm embrace. He nuzzled her hair and sighed in contentment, squeezing her tight. "I'm glad we did this, Imani," he finally said. "No matter what else happens tonight, we've got this little bit of perfection."

"Me too," she agreed, resting her hand upon his shoulder. "But we're gonna make it. I'm not losing you, Garrus."

"I already lost you once. I never want to do that again," Garrus said, squeezing her again. "So it's a good thing I gave you about twenty-six centimeters worth of earth-shattering incentive to come back alive."

"And I gave you a swollen tongue," Imani chuckled.

"Beats anaphylaxis. And anyway, it was worth it. You taste _really_ good." Garrus scooped her up and rolled on top of her, sending her into a fit of giggles.

"So do you, mister--"

_"Commander, we've got the Omega-4 Relay on visual, you might want to get down here."_ Joker's familiar voice sounded over the ship-wide comm.

"Duty calls," Garrus said, the disappointment in his voice palpable.

"Yep," Imani sighed, burying her face in his shoulder one last time before he pulled away from her to collect his clothes from the floor. She stretched across the bed, and reached for the comm panel on the nightstand. "Alright, Joker, be there in half a tick. Everyone else, grab your gear and stand by for orders."

She let go of the button, already feeling the sense of quiet intimacy and euphoria fade, mentally preparing herself for what was to come. There was no more time to be that content woman lying blissfully in the arms of the man she loved. Now she was going to have to steel herself and be Commander Shepard again. Humanity and the galaxy itself was depending on her, as they always were. But she would be ready, as she always was, with no regrets. 

As he was getting dressed, she picked up his visor, on the way to the closet, and glanced down at it. Eleven names were etched into the interior side, just as he'd told her a while back. At the time, it didn't occur to her to ask why eleven, when there were only ten members of his merc squad on Omega. But she didn't have to ask why, when she saw her own name etched in the middle, the markings older and deeper than the rest.

He'd really meant what he said. Not that Imani didn't believe him, but it was nice getting that bit of reassurance.

"Shepard?" he said.

"Yeah, Garrus?" She handed the visor over to him, and quickly started pulling her own gear out of the closet.

"You're the best damned soldier I've ever known. And a better woman. Thanks, for everything."

Imani smiled. "Thanks yourself."

"Now with that out of the way, I think we've got a date with some Collectors."

"Sure thing, I'll meet you there. Just look for the girl in the red and black armor with the shotgun."


End file.
